


What's Left is Carrion

by 3988Akasha



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-28
Updated: 2013-06-28
Packaged: 2017-12-16 11:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/861643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3988Akasha/pseuds/3988Akasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being tied up in a tent outside The Tower, all Bass could do was think. No one ever said thinking would be a wise choice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What's Left is Carrion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Timid_Timbuktu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Timid_Timbuktu/gifts).



> Um, plot points gave me feels?
> 
> I have no excuse for this.

Maybe he should have known everything would lead him to this place, maybe he should have seen it coming. ~~Miles would have.~~ Perhaps not this exact position, tied to the post of one of his own tents. ~~Tents made from material Miles _acquired_ for him.~~ No, the part he should have seen coming was the being alone part - the part where he was the only one tied to a post. It gave him time to think, time to remember everything, and it all made more sense when he was looking back on it. ~~Obviously, only Miles was allowed to know everything.~~ It had started with a line, an invisible line Bass couldn’t see until it was already too late, and if he’d learned anything, it was that he could never go back. Not that going back would change anything - not really because one way or another, Bass was always meant to end up alone. He’d known it all those years ago when he’d decided to sit by himself in the graveyard, bottle of bourbon in his hand, and question why he was the one to survive. He didn’t know then, but he did now - it was because he was always meant to be alone. ~~Except Miles showed up and ruined everything by allowing Bass to think that just maybe he wasn’t meant to be as alone as he’d thought.~~ If only clarity had come to him then, in that moment when the weight of the gun was still heavy in his hand. 

Killing the rebels - that’s where it all started. The beginning of the end, or really just the continuation of an outcome that had been put on hold. ~~Miles always had the worst timing.~~ Starting that day, Bass had been alone, not that he’d known it at the time. He was always the last to know. Information always came to him too little, too late. Jeremy, he knew things, too, he’d been loyal and Bass should have known it, but people left - people _always_ left. Jeremy knew people always left him, and Jeremy knew it was Bass’ fault. ~~Just like Miles.~~ It was lonely at the top, but looking back, Bass knew it was lonely at the bottom, too. Back then it made sense - kill the rebels. It was more than that though, and he knew it. It’d all been an attempt to prove he could make the hard choices, that he could be the leader. ~~Miles was the leader - everyone knew it.~~ Even in a world without power, no one wanted truth in advertizing, not when lies were that easy to believe. It was a good test run and Bass would need it. He hadn’t known, had no way of knowing, but that would be the easiest decision he’d ever make and the only one he couldn’t ever truly regret. Still, he was never meant to be the hero of this story. It wasn’t his job to save lives, to avenge those he cared about because they weren’t really _his_. He was alone, even then, surrounded by his men, by his empire - he was alone. 

At least he’d tried. That’s what he’d have Tom put on his tombstone, if anyone could be troubled to make one for him. ~~They’d make one for Miles.~~ Bass blamed the small coffin, the one he still saw when he closed his eyes at night, the one he saw in the small hours of the morning when he would wake up in a cold sweat. ~~Miles never had nightmares; nothing ever scared Miles.~~ It was all in the details, Bass knew that. He’d done something wrong, the process, the little things - maybe it was the wrong wood. After all, he’d seen wars started over smaller things than a bomb nearly eliminating the entire government in one terrifying moment. ~~Only Miles could start wars.~~ In trying to fix things, he broke them beyond repair. Killing the rebels, even the little ones, hadn’t stopped them. It made things worse; more rebels grew out of it. Mercy, he should have shown them mercy. Kill them with kindness and six other cliches. He should have laughed at the absurdity of the thought, but it wasn’t funny, not when he thought about it. And that’s all he could do, tied to the post, _think._

That night, he never saw it coming. Even looking back, he couldn’t see it coming, couldn’t find the glow in the dark breadcrumbs. Only one person could have done it. ~~It’s always Miles.~~ The gun wasn’t the surprise, not really. He’d always known someone would come for him, that’s what presidents were for...that’s why he didn’t react immediately. It was his time, it was his role - the assassination that sparked a nation. ~~Miles would avenge him.~~ He liked the sound of that. Then the rebel problem would have been eliminated. The entire nation would have been laid to waste in the wake of the ensuing campaign. No mercy, no survivors. It was his role - his grace - that allowed them all to live. ~~Everyone knew Miles was who kept everyone safe.~~ His madness would kill them all. Maybe Tom would give him a gun and a single bullet, maybe he’d be allowed to close the circuit that had been open, the broken link in the system. ~~Miles would still get in the way; Miles was always in his way.~~ Tom wouldn’t let it be that easy, wouldn’t let it be that painless, not after everything, not after all this time.

Something was going on outside, Bass could hear them, could hear the men dying. Maybe someone was still loyal to him, to the Republic. ~~To what Miles built.~~ No one else should die though, not for his crumbling empire, not for his house of cards. The fighting was closer now, he could hear the feet shuffling in the dirt. Maybe it was Tom coming back to finish him off - maybe Tom changed his mind about appearances and trials. Bass hoped he had. If he could find words this time, he could make Tom angry, light that short fuse of his, make him act rashly. ~~Miles could do it.~~ The bodies were falling closer now, he could hear the muffled thud as they fell into the dirt. He could thank them for their loyal service later, assuming he made it out of here. The corpses couldn't stand at his trial though, couldn't talk about the Father of the Republic. ~~Miles had been gone for years.~~ Someone was in the tent now, but it wasn’t Tom. Pity. 

Everything was in the tent now, his entire universe had expanded and contracted into this tiny little area. ~~Miles was always everything to him.~~ There was sound, but it was only in his head, a hollow ringing that he couldn’t shake, It made him stupid, made him unable to do anything but track with his eyes. Maybe he’d been dosed with whatever Randall’s man had been cooking up in the lab, the thing they gave Nora - the thing that broke her. He was enjoying the hallucination; he should thank him. The knife near his throat was expected, it was part of the circuit, finally it would be closed and things could return to normal, things could function, everything would be fine again. His role would be complete. ~~Miles could finish the revolution.~~ His hands were free, but he couldn’t move because this wasn’t real. None of this was real because that would mean he wasn’t alone in the tent. Bass was meant to be alone, he’d figured that out now. 

“You asked me why I tried to kill you.”

He was alone. Always meant to be alone. He knew that’s why - because he hadn’t figured it out soon enough. That’s what was broken in the system. That’s why everything had gone so horribly wrong. He’d broken it before he’d known what it was, but he could fix it now. ~~Miles still had bad timing.~~

“You’re asking the wrong question, Bass.”

Of course he was asking the wrong question. He was always wrong. ~~Miles was always right.~~ So much for fixing it. He’d never fix it. The pieces were broken and laying at his feet, but he couldn't pick them up because his fingers were broken, too. Everything was broken. 

“Ask me why I couldn’t kill you.”

No. He couldn't say it. He was meant to be alone. This would ruin everything. He wanted to scream, to shout, but he couldn't. He stared. ~~Miles could do anything.~~

“We’re still brothers.”

Bass didn’t have any family left. Everyone left him because he was meant to be alone. Nothing was going the way it should anymore. Tom needed to come back, needed to finish the job. Tom could rule the empire. ~~Miles would lay waste to him, too.~~ That’s the way the story was always meant to end. It was still wrong because he was looking up, tears in his eyes, still clinging to the hope that maybe he didn’t have to be alone. Hoping that he’d gotten it wrong, again. It would be okay though, to be wrong, to not be alone. He’d make everything okay. 

“And that’s never going to change.”

It already had, but Bass didn’t need to say that. He knew it. Everyone knew it. Bass was meant to be alone. He was always meant to be alone. Harry Potter knew it, that’s why he’d helped them along. Never was a long time, though. Perhaps he could put it off for a bit longer. In the end, he knew he’d be alone, but for now, he could be selfish. Because he wasn’t alone in the tent. ~~Miles wouldn’t leave him alone.~~ He’d get it right this time. This borrowed time would be treasured. He’d pay closer attention to the lines and this time he knew how it would end. This time he wouldn’t be surprised.

"Run, Bass."

**Author's Note:**

> Un beta'd...let me know what I missed.


End file.
